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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597796">Darelz' Disco Dump</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darelz/pseuds/Darelz'>Darelz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Disco Elysium (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dolorian Imagery, Driving, Face Slapping, Ficlet Collection, Flowers, Fluff, Gen, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Ocean, POV First Person, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Religious Imagery &amp; Symbolism, Romantic Comedy, Slapping, Stalking, The Pale (Disco Elysium), Trust, Yandere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:27:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597796</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darelz/pseuds/Darelz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short Disco Elysium writings. I'm trying to practice finishing fiction without obsessing over the quality, so these might not be great. Check the summary of each chapter for a synopsis and content warnings.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Du Bois &amp; Kim Kitsuragi, Kim Kitsuragi/Jean Vicquemare, Trant Heidelstam/Jean Vicquemare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Smile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A drabble about Trant's smile.</p><p>CW: Hurt, implied character death.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everyone recognised Trant by his smile.</p><p>You couldn’t look at Trant without being blinded by the optimism ablaze in his eyes. That sanguine demeanour was contagious, infecting his colleagues with a pervasive hope that they could actually change Revachol for the better. Trant’s smile was a part of his uniform, worn so often that laugh lines were etched into his face like battleworn trenches; worn every day without fail.</p><p>Except one.</p><p>The next day Trant returned to work with his usual smile, as if the vacancy of the desk besides Harry’s wasn’t permanent. It was only then that Harry noticed the tiredness which ghosted Trant’s smile.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Harder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jean wants Kim to slap him. This is a fill for the <a href="https://de-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/550.html">Disco Elysium Kink meme</a>.</p><p>CW: Face-slapping kink, but I swear it's cute.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There's conflict in his steady gaze. Most wouldn’t notice, but for all the problems the shitkid’s caused he’s at least taught you how to read people. Violence obviously isn’t a means Kim condones: it’s an egregious failure of discipline, and runs counter to his raison d’être of serving Revachol. But underneath the mask he's constructed from layers of restraint and denial, there’s a flicker of temptation. Kim’s trained himself to ignore that siren calling him to dip into the waters of sadism; you don’t sing such sweet melodies though, as your tongue is far more foul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright if you can’t do it. I didn’t expect Lieutenant Bootlicker to actually have the nerve to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sharp clap peals through the air as pain blossoms across your cheek, his glove having done little to temper the impact. The shock sets every fibre of your body alight with an exhilarating buzz, like an engine roaring to life after ages of dormancy. Through your quivering breath, your mouth twists into a smug grin - you take pride in your ability to provoke the man famous for his unbreakable composure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Khm, I didn't think that you'd actually… I apologise if it was too much."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the thrill it gave him and the patency of the thrill it gave you, Kim still has reservations about hitting you. You take his leather coated hand into your own, and draw it your lips to press a soft kiss against his knuckles. Kim Kitsuragi doesn't blush, but if he did his cheeks would be brighter than your own stinging face right now. Neither of you are forthcoming with intimacy - that you're willing to do this is a sign of how much you trust him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Harder</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Obsession</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry obsesses over Kim.</p><p>CW: Stalking.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>No longer do you dream of her: you have a new darling to dote on now. At a time when you had no direction he placed a guiding hand on your back; if he weren’t so reserved you would express your gratitude through reciprocated touch. Every praise he bestowed upon you sent rapturous shivers down your spine, spurring you to struggle on with the investigation; how eager you are to voice your own adoration by invoking his name over and over and </span>
  <em>
    <span>over, </span>
  </em>
  <span>into the small hours of the night. Occasionally your antics would win brief smiles from the clutches of his composure; should you be so lucky you would capture those smiles forever in picture form. That week in Martinaise he followed close behind you, but now you’re the one who has become his follower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No longer do you dream of her: you have a new grace to devote yourself to now. In the cold night air his skin prickles, still too stoic to admit that he should adorn more layers; it doesn’t help that his signature bomber jacket has recently been </span>
  <em>
    <span>misplaced</span>
  </em>
  <span>. As he walks past a streetlight it casts a soft halo around his head; you admire his radiance from the shadows which confine you, yearning for the day you can step on the same sacred ground as him once more. His footsteps are steady and purposeful as his efforts in every domain; there’s no hint of suspicion that he might not be alone. It seems he has forgotten your vow that you would </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>watch his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No longer do you dream of her: you have a new victim to obsess over now. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yeah I know I abused semicolons in this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Idiots (In Love)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kim reflects on the nature of Jean and Trant's relationship. This is a low effort ficlet to express a humorous idea I had. No content warnings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>From the beginning Kim had known that Jean and Trant were a couple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even in Martinaise there had been hints: while providing 'useless advice' outside the FELD building Trant went on several tangents about a certain satellite officer, and the first time Kim had seen Jean's permanent grimace melt into a smile was when Trant made a joke during Harry's trial. It didn't take long after transferring to Precinct 41 for Kim to obtain more substantial evidence. Even on his first day Kim had been struck by how casual Jean and Trant were about touching each other, with Trant's hand seeming to be a permanent fixture on the small of Jean's back. It was inappropriate behaviour for the workplace in Kim's opinion, but he had learned the hard way that scolding others wouldn't make him fast friends. At least the couple got their work done, which was more than could be said for most officers. So whenever Trant brought in baked treats for Jean alone, whenever Jean barked at someone who so much as looked at Trant the wrong way, whenever the pair flushed like fresh lovers at the faintest praise from each other, Kim bit his tongue. Eventually Kim would come to find the displays of pure devotion the two obviously held for each other a welcome respite in an unforgiving line of work, tooth-rotting though it may be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it came as something of a shock to learn the couple were unaware they were dating each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"When you claim not to be dating Consultant Heidelstam, do you mean-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dolores bloody Dei, I mean we're just friends! No dating, no kissing, and certainly no fucking."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A less composed man would have laughed in the face of such a blatant lie; Kim managed to contain his incredulity to a single raised eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I bear witness to Consultant Heidelstam kissing you every morning."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"On the cheek! Didn't expect you of all people to go Inspector Mullen over a bit of physical affection - I've seen you dispensing back-pats like candy on Spooks Night."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then I suppose Consultant Heidelstam kisses his other acquaintances?" The question was answered by a venomous scowl, lethal enough that Kim hastens to add "He doesn't, so you needn't murder anyone."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Since you're acting like a child about this, I'll explain it in preschooler terms: me and Trant are '</span>
  <em>
    <span>best friendsies for-evs</span>
  </em>
  <span>'. That's why we're more touchy with each other than our other friends. Case fucking closed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even Kim, the Innocence of patience, was unable to restrain a sigh of exasperation at that. Normally Kim would understand members of the Underground lying to keep their romantic relationships secret, but Trant and Jean had made less than no effort to hide their involvement with one another. There was simply no platonic explanation for their behaviour - unless...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you truly not in a romantic relationship with Consultant Heidelstam?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I've been lying to you this whole conversation because I'm a sociopath." Jean squints his eyes in a manner Kim’s certain Trant would call ‘cute’ - although Kim’s convinced that Jean could simply breathe and Trant would consider it cute. "No shit I'm not dating Trant! Fuck, maybe it will help if you hear it from him too- SPECIAL CONSULTANT SCATTERBRAIN, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From across the room Trant's head perked up, before bounding over like a puppy who's heard the it’s time for walkies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is there something wrong, mon râleur?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn't escape Kim's attention that Trant's hand had already found its way onto Jean's back, in its usual magnetic proclivity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, nothing you need to worry about. Just want your help proving something to Kim. Can you tell Kim whether or not we're dating?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tilting his head in confusion, Trant takes a few moments to process the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dating? As in-... no, of course not. Though the strength of my assurance doesn't reflect my purview of Jean's eligibility - I'm convinced that he is capable of courting whoever he pleases. There are few individuals as considerate and dedicated as Jean, and you can see for yourself how handsome he is." Predictable as ever, Jean’s cheeks flushed a bright commodore red. "Why, did someone happen to be interested in Jean?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tinge of fear stained Trant's voice as he asked that last question, confirming Kim's worst suspicion: the pair genuinely weren't dating. Rather, they were just... idiots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I doubt anybody would dare incur Jean’s wrath - the entire office is convinced you two are dating one another."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was aware that workplace tittle-tattle could get out of hand, but that’s a completely unfounded rumour. Why would anyone think such a thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re a bunch of fuckin’ idiots, that’s why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kim refrains from sharing his opinion on who the real idiots are. It was probably better for them to figure it out in their own time - that, and Kim was in no rush to witness levels of P.D.A. that would manifest when the couple actually started dating.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jean makes a bad decision.</p><p>CW: Implied yandere/unhealthy relationship?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was the special room that should've given it away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In retrospect there were many unusual things about Trant that should've made Jean suspicious - but then Trant wouldn't be in charge of the precinct’s public relations if he weren't so charming. That sealed room though, that should've tipped Jean off, that should've been when he sought help; what he absolutely should *not* have done was break into the room. He’s never known how to mind his own damn business though. Curiosity didn't kill the cat: it did so much worse.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Originally this was going to be an opening to a yandere!Trant/Jean fic, but if I ever end up finishing that it will be with a different opening. My writing whims are fickle, so who fucking knows what I'll actually write next.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Driving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kim drives the Kineema.</p><p>No content warnings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Kim gets behind the wheel, everything else ceases to exist - or more accurately, everything else that exists becomes one. There are no bounds between Kim, the Kineema, and the moving streets of Revachol: they're all components in the same infernal engine, where cognition concedes to cogs and the continuous drone of Speedfreaks FM. It's not a spiritual experience - such concepts are mere flights of fancy - but a *constitutional* experience, wherein every component performs its role in synchrony. Such a scene is worthy of Dolores Dei's gaze; from behind, his partner's eyes linger. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wrote this as part of a roleplay, but I'm fond enough of this paragraph to stick it here.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Water Hyacinth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A water hyacinth grows on an entropentic compression station.</p><p>CW: Existential angst I guess.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A water hyacinth grows in the corner of my station. I have a tank for him: we're surrounded by water, but if I put him outside the tides would take him away. Then I'd be truly alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>White noise crackles from the radio. It's all the same now, after 6 months. Already the words and sentences run together, unsure where they're supposed to begin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone asked why: why would I do this to myself?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone, even those who never asked. My mom did, begging me to stay; everyone else just thought it. Caught it, in the stares longer than the distance that separates us now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It's nauseating being surrounded by those who search for answers. Never have them, but a drive persists. Without it you can talk, but the line's broken, words won't connect.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out here there's only inevitability. Knowing that the result will be the same anyway, it's safe to grow. Petals unfurl, relishing in an uncaring sky, pure for his fleeting existence. There are no questions; there is nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I fit in. Rolling with the waves as I lose an identity I never had. Untethered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A lilac smudge in grey mist.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is why sleep is important kids. If you push yourself to exhaustion you'll wake up feeling melancholic, then you'll have to write some nonsense about a flower to get yourself out of bed.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Pale Feelings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There is a station out at sea</p><p>Probably</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I titled my WIP document "Angst Mc Edgelord". That's probably a better title for this.</p><p>CW: Blood? Sad times?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There is a shadow in the mirror</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is an echo to the voice</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is a scar on the skin</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slit fixing the compressor</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Poppies bloomed through the hankie</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A single flower, fleeting</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A puny soul to the ocean</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Truly, the station is puny</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There isn't much to like</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or dislike</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There is nothing out here</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not even myself</span>
</p>
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